


In Ms. Aranea The Witch's Office

by sugarby



Series: Taletober [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Gen, M/M, hint at IgNea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-27
Updated: 2017-01-27
Packaged: 2018-09-20 06:03:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9478730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: Aranea gives him an uncertain look for a moment. "...Well, before I try anything, lay the story on me. Tell me how this happened. How His Highness ended up..." She hears the black frog croak again and leans over her desk to see it, grimacing at its slimy, slightly-green dotted body. "...Uh, like that."





	

**Author's Note:**

> *20% insp by Oxenfree, 80% insp by my favourite scene in Spirited Away.   
>  *The title is absolutely impulsive. It ideally should follow it's predecessors and start with "Magic..." but my mind is blank right now.   
> 

         "Hey, Granny...Noct's gonna be okay....right?" Even cradling the warm cup of tea in his hands given to him, it doesn't keep him from sounding hopeless. He stares in to it, at his freckled, mopey face. The black frog in his lap appears beside his reflection and croaks, possibly in sympathy.

         "First of all, kid, I'm _no one_ 's _granny_." says the Witch seated in front, behind her long, black-wooden desk, in her high, burgundy-leather chair. She rightly takes little offence to the _irrational_ nickname; she's not over thirty yet, and she likes her silver hair, thanks. "And can you quit moping? You're upsetting my plant."

          _'...Plant?'_  Prompto realizes she means the potted Rose on her desk. He sees its head droop as it switches from its peaceful, default color to a blatant, dull tone. In magical terms, this color represents feelings of self-deprivation. In between its folds are dark, tiny eyes, and its light in weight petals are so delicate they're nearly completely transparent. The rose emits a small squeak, inspecting Prompto as it lifts its head up a little to him.

         "It's a mood rose. Picks up on how a person's feeling and isn't the least bit subtle with showing it."

         "Oh. Neat." Not knowing what else to say in this moment, Prompto gives the room a quick glance around. He noticed its style the second he stepped in, how it didn't seem so different to the teacher offices in his school. Well, besides the armory and long weaponry she has placed against an entire wall. It's an impressive collection ranging from pointy to curved to sharp. So she's a hands-on fighter, too. The rest of her space is fairly normal enough: top-half white and bottom-half red painted walls with metallic-like etched patterns; dark-wood floorboards but a red carpet beneath their feet and the desk. Prompto's fingers itch a little at their tips to pull out his trusty camera that's back in his bedroom. 

         If Ms. Aranea Highwind can see his twitching, she's deciding to leave him to it. "Help yourself, Kid." she says, passing over a small plate of assorted biscuits. Meanwhile, hovering around the desk are a tea-pot and small bowl of sugar cubes, _magically influenced_  by a flick of her hand to serve like in _Beauty And The Beast_. Prompto shows two fingers to the cup and it tips in to his tea—one, two cubes fall in with a soft  _plonk_.

         Prompto gives her a small, appreciative smile. "I half-thought I'd be attacked on sight when I got here."

         "I figured your knowing how to come here meant that you knew about this place, and if you knew that then you obviously knew the risks. And since you came looking for me and I'm still just getting settled in, someone from the school had to have dropped a word or two. Pretty-boy Noctis, right?"

         "Uh, yeah." Prompto reaches for one of the biscuits and bites in to it. The black frog in his lap leaps up to his arm, croaking and tapping its sticky foot down. Prompto strokes it with a wistful sigh, wishing he could fix things for himself. "His little friend makes a decent tour guide. Kinda half-squirrel, half...bunny? And half cat."

         "That's three halves."

         "Yes it is."

         Aranea gives him an uncertain look for a moment. "...Well, before I try anything, lay the story on me. Tell me how this happened. How His Highness ended up..." She hears the black frog croak again and leans over her desk to see it, grimacing at its slimy, slightly-green dotted body. "...Uh, like _that_."

_* *_

         "I have a favor to ask you."

         "Can't ask _anyone_ else, huh?"

         "It needs to be a magical person, so you win. Congrats!"

         "No."

         "No? Whaddaya mean 'no'?!"

         "Usually, when you want a favor, I end up with a headache."

         " _And I_  head to the nearest pharmaceutical store and get you some sweet meds. Good times."

         "Not doing it."

         "I'd totally respect that decision if you knew what 'it' was."

         "Hell if I don't. _Whatever_ it is, it's no."

         "Boo. Such a party killer."

         "So _that_ 's the favour? A party."

         " _No_!"

         "What, then? I gotta hold your hand while you snap a few pics of the sunrise." Noctis wonders, a hand gesturing to the entire scene of the two of them being out here, with Prompto holding on to his camera—as always—like the extension of himself that it practically is. He goes almost nowhere without one; he captures life by its moments seen in his photography. And apparently, to do that, it required waking up his best friend at four in the morning, leading him out to the back of some woods to sit and wait on a hill for a _glorious_ sunrise.

         "Let me work up the nerve to actually ask you, okay? For now, you, my best bud, can be my assistant and good company. Just chill out here with me and we'll see something magical, I swear." Prompto says, eyes bright in excitement as he looks out at the horizon.

         Noctis, who isn't so enthusiastic in the very early morning, sighs. "Well, since I'm already here, awake _before_ the sun— _thank you_ , again—it's either be a good friend and stay here with you, or ditch you for breakfast at Kenny's." The name of the family-oriented restaurant alone makes his stomach grumble. Kiddy-styled menus aside, the food there is decent enough to want seconds— _fourths_ if you have the stomach for it. It's a nice place all around even if Kenny, the mascot Crow who should stick to mingling with _kids_ , likes to ruffle Noctis' hair each time he comes through and try to ignite what's left of his child-self.

         "Without me?! You wouldn't dare!"

         "Wouldn't I?"

         "Heartless!" Prompto cries just as he clicks on his camera, the flash illuminating before his eyes on a simple selfie. Noctis can be seen in the background, sitting cross-legged with arms folded, skepticism on his face. "We're, like, bros, dude. I thought you'd want in on the action."

         "Our ideas of 'action' are so different, they may as well be separate planets."

         "That right? Hey, Noct, how's Luna?"

         "Knock it off." Noctis kicks his foot in to best friend's behind, mildly flustered by the implication to that question. As if _banging_  the witch he's known practically forever is the only thing on his mind, let alone the only thing he considers _fun_. "Hurry up and get your fill. Kenny's. I'm buyin'."

         Prompto beams, one-hundred percent dedicated to that deal. "Sweet!"

_..._

         "Wait, you said 'first thing's first' and I don't remember you actually asking me for any favor beyond coming with you to take pictures of the stars." Noctis says, when he's finished his plateful of fried breakfast—(the kind his professor Ignis will surely get heartburn over if he knew, always encouraging his student to adopt a healthy lifestyle).

         Prompto's cheeks are full of food when he looks up, "...Hm?"

         "So what is it?"

         "Oh." Prompto swallows, "...In Biology, tomorrow, they're making us dissect frogs."

         "Okay."

         "It's the worst! Poor frog. I'm not about that, man. It's such a cruel thing! What if it has plans to chill out or meet the lady-frog of his dreams? I'm gonna come between them! Oh man, I'm gonna be a _murderer_! It'll be dead before I'm even there but, you know, like, I'm gonna be standing over it with, like, a butcher's knife or something! Gods, I might as well have killed it. Dude, I...it's—!" Prompto cuts himself off with a gasp. Noctis wants to usher him in to a regulated breathing schedule before he hyperventilates after all that rambling. It'll be like the old days in elementary school, paper lunch bag and all. "...Dude, it's gonna be _real_."

         "If you're still not convinced, go ahead and slap yourself." Noctis deadpans. "You're making a big deal out of a curriculum that's lasted longer than your obsession with Chocobos." So, about twenty years, approximately, since his best friend has loved those birds practically from birth (Prompto says he was birthed in a hospital room _plastered_ with stickers of them). "Yeah, it's gonna be gross but I don't see what this has to do with any favor."

         "Do you talk to frogs?"

         "Excuse me?"

         "I mean  _can_ you talk to frogs?"

         "... _What_?"

         "Am I not saying it right?"

         "They can't _not_ talk—it's possible with a spell. Where's this going?"

         "Okay, so...I wanna give my condolences to the frog before I have to... _y'know_! So if you can make up a spell just for this situation, that'd be amazing." Anyone could guess that after last time—being turned in to a Snowman—Prompto would want as little as possible to do with his best friend's secondary life as a wizard. Magic, as cool as it sounds and is to think up, it's pretty scary when it goes wrong. Faint goosebumps start trekking up along Prompto's bare arms at the idea of having a wand pointed his way again, but it happens to _pale in comparison_ to a dead frog under a knife.

         "What if it goes wrong?"

         "I'm hoping it's not gonna..."

         " _Prompto_ —"

         " _I know_ but if I don't cut open a frog tomorrow, I don't pass, and if I don't pass then I'm stuck in summer class, and if I'm stuck there then I can't spend Summer with you and watch you play Quiche! Sorry, _Quitch_!"

         "But _if it does_ go wrong? What then?"

         "I trust you to make me look swaggier than all the other snowmen, haha."

         "That's it. Can't be seen with you again. Friendship over."

         " _If you do_ _fuck up again_ and, I dunno, nearly kill me—"

         "Thanks for the confidence."

         "—You can call your Professor again."

          _Ohh_ , Professor. Ignis _loves_ to scold his prime student for all of his misdoings, whether they're mundane or supernova. Luckily, "Ignis is _unwillingly_ on vacation. He's so dedicated to the academy, other Professors were considering temporarily suspending him just to get him out the doors. He really needs the time off, and his vacation is _my_ vacation. Plus, I know Aranea'll be happy to see the back of him, too."

         "Aranea? A _girl_?!"

         " _Woman_. She's a new sub." Noctis corrects, knowing the things it'll do to his skirt-chasing friend. Aranea and his Professor. Ignis never really get along as well as they could; Noctis senses it must be all that mutual attraction causing tension between. He honestly thinks Aranea would be good for his uptight Professor—older women seem to be right up his alley anyway, with all his interest in maturity, sophistication.

         "Is she hot?!"

         "Yeah. I think so. It helps that she's got a side-gig as a huntress in her spare time."

         If their lives were an animation, an arrow would be shooting straight in to Prompto's heart, and fireworks and party decorations would be streaming out to explode with a bang. Hands on heart, he's quickly eager to be hurt so he can meet her. "So, how risky's this spell? Is it gonna knock me out? Dude, I can break my own arm if—"

         Noctis chuckles. "Anything for love, huh?"

         "Uh, hello, my _best friend_ goes to another school in another, magical world. I gotta do a background check on the people there, don't I?"

         "Riiiight." Noctis gets up from their booth, throwing down enough cash on the table to cover both their meals. Prompto follows him out with the last mouthful and his jacket halfway on, untied boots stumbling over someone's bag on the floor on the way out.

         Noctis tells Prompto only to 'get on' his broom before they're up in the air and soaring. Arriving shortly in Prompto's home, then making it to his bedroom and closing the curtains for privacy, Noctis draws out his wand in a cluster of twirling crystal from behind his back. One made up spell about frogs and minds later, light-green mist sinks out of the wand, wafting out until it's filled the bottom half of the room. Prompto looks down but can't see his own feet anymore. They're completely covered. When he looks up, Noctis isn't there. Prompto gulps, dreading whatever's obviously happened. Green, the color of sickness, the color they'll remember as the sight of trouble when it eventually clears, and where the wizard once stood sits a black frog.

_*     *_

         "Two twenty-something males are left unsupervised. Magic or no magic, of course there'd be trouble. Listen, Blondie—"

         "It's Prompto, M-Maam."

         "You should be flattered, nickname's mean I don't totally dislike you." Aranea leans on her desk, elbows balancing on top, fingers entwining. "From the story and how the situation looks, he's gonna make it."

         "R-Really?!"

         "He _has_ to, otherwise all this," Aranea's hands lift, motioning to her office, the school courtyard, the whole world of Eos including it's non magical parallel from where Prompto hails. "Without an heir to become king and protect everyone and everything, we can kiss it all goodbye. I reckon he's gotta be tougher. _Tough enough_ to not call it quits looking like _that_."

         "I think...he's kinda cute." Prompto admits. He watches Noctis climb over his hands to return to his lap, and look up with his big, blue eyes. He croaks it's like it's to assure that everything will be okay. "It's my fault he's like this anyway."

         "What, did you tape his hand to his wand?"

         "He did it for me."

         "Still, he made his choice."

         Prompto shrugs. Being technically correct doesn't matter, it's the same difference to him; the spell was thought of and cast for his sake because he can't bear injuring a frog, never-mind that it'll already be dead. "So, granny. Uh, sorry, Miss—"

         "Just Aranea." Aranea sighs in sympathy for the boy; seeing him watch his friend with such a guilty face. "Obviously, Prince Noctis realized that when it comes to handling risky spells and _Specs_  isn't around, I'm your girl to call."

         "Specs?" Prompto inquires.

         "That's my nickname for His Highness' stuck-up, four eyed Professor. Now, the Prince is gonna be fine. Weak transfiguration spells wear off. It's the nasty ones that can last a while but only full fledged pro wizards can cast those."

         "Good." Prompto looks down, strokes the frog in relief. "Noct's my _best friend_."

         "Wanna try working some of your own magic and give His Highness a kiss? See if it lifts the little curse he's got on him?"

         "Um, no...?"

         "Kill-joy." Aranea quips. She moves her finger around and the teapot and small cup of sugar cubes clear themselves away neatly in to a cupboard under her desk.

         Prompto wouldn't believe it if Noctis hadn't already told him—about this woman here being this bad-ass hotness, going round and slaying beasts when she's not covering a class. And by the look of her Quitch gear Prompto recognizes beside the weaponry—an expensive, newly released model, too—she must be quite a player. Whoa, Prompto thinks, gulping as his heart beats increase. 

         "It'll wear off, so quit worrying. No one's _dying_ or living our the rest of puberty in swamps and eating flies."

         "Good, that's a relief."

         "Hey, you're not a wizard. Are you?." Aranea asks, because regardless of how boys can be, an obvious solution to try would be reversing the spell themselves.

         "No, Maam. I'm plain ol', regular me."

         "Regular. Heh." Aranea repeats 'cause it has her scoffing in amusement at the way regularity was measured these days. If you ask her, regardless of not possessing any magic yourself, just knowing someone who does isn't regular. Cradling your best friend who is a frog in your hands isn't regular. "Anything else I can help you with then let me know now." Other than the itch to ask her out to dinner and see how well their marriage afterward lasts, Prompto's fine. "I got a stack of paperwork coming my way. I swear, Specs has never taken a day off in his life but I arrive and suddenly he's on vacation. Well, let's hope the women are keen and the drinks are sweet, 'cause when he comes back, I'm gonna kill him."

         "You should ask him out."

         Aranea's eyes are on him before she turns her head, sharp and narrowing. "... _Excuse me_?"

         Prompto bolts, out the door with dust practically left in his wake.

_*      *_

         For the record, so anyone who asks knows this, Prompto isn't naive enough to believe this'll actually work. He's seen both the crazy and fun side of magic and more than enough of it to, yeah, start legitimately thinking tooth fairies might exist or something, but beyond that, in to fairy-tales, he draws the line. He doesn't actually think that kissing his best friend while he's a frog will suddenly undo the spell and bring him back to normal.

         That's what happens...but Prompto never actually thought it would! He just figured there wouldn't be any harm. He does it for a small joke, pushes aside all the parts of him chanting 'ew' the entire time and puts his lips to the frog's head. Then the slimy skin becomes soft, hair brushes his fingers. The entire body of the frog once in his hands is now the head of his best friend, standing there as he's kissed on the cheek out of nowhere.

         "Wow. I didn't peg you for the type to believe in fairy-tale princes, Prompto.

         "You—what?! Noct?!"

         Noctis grins shamelessly. "Oh boy, I _gotta_ hear this one."

         "I-It was Aranea! _She told_ me to!"

         "If she told you to propose, would you do that, too?"

         "Of course not! _You_ 'd have to ask _me_! Sweep me off my feet and everything."

         Noctis slings an arm across Prompto's shoulder, leading them down the hall to leave the academy. "Well, I've got a flying broomstick. And I owe you for saving me."

**Author's Note:**

> *I know Flowers have their own meanings regarding their color but it's not all necessarily the same in the magical world.   
>  *I could've written Prompto's journey to and through the magical world and the academy, but I'm lazy. I originally only had the main scene between him and Aranea down anyway. I'm still in a bit of a writing rut, too, so I'm pleased I could write even this much. Hope it's been an enjoyable read for you! <3 \\(^◡^ )   
>  *As mentioned in #2, the spell "reverti" should undo most misbegotten ones, but not all—especially poison effects and curses. It's the waiting game then. Since the spell didn't go to plan, too, you can believe Prompto had it rough at school the next day, freaking out and everything (according to his teacher, being an adorable, sobbing mess isn't a good reason to be excused (╥︣﹏╥))   
>  PS. Since Aranea _does_ call Ignis by a nickname, she doesn't completely dislike him neither  <3 ;)


End file.
